


East

by littleblackbow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackbow/pseuds/littleblackbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's wandering the world, trying to figure out who he's supposed to be and what he's supposed to do. He hadn't been looking for a destination, but somehow, after a mis-directed magical hop, he found one in the most unlikely hostel - and hostel owner.</p><p><b>Career Choices:</b> Harry: World Traveler; Draco: Hostel Owner</p>
            </blockquote>





	East

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkbyun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkbyun/gifts).



> For [Prompt # 11](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NnIZtnyWEqbQHgi3U6N1CwbznCTkDeZGWJqgEw6KRrQ/).
> 
> Thanks to my betas aigooism and kohaku_imaki55. This was a lot of fun to write. I love using my personal knowledge in fics like this. So happy to have seen this prompt!
> 
> There are several Japanese and Korean words that are written out in their accepted English pronunciations. Beneath the lines, there's a translation of what the words mean. Also, many of the grammatical errors in the dialogue are intentional. :)

 

Harry thought the world would seem much smaller after traveling. At least that’s what everyone had told him. That, as he went from one country to another, he would feel more and more at home, like the world really wasn’t so vast after all.

Halfway through China, he realized it was all wrong. The world was vast. Each place he visited seemed even more alien and further from home than the last, and by the time he made it to Xian, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to continue.

Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe he was better off staying in England. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone else how he really felt - like his world had collapsed in on itself, and there wasn’t much left for him to do.

Because of his war injuries, he couldn’t play professional Quidditch. And although he was quick with his hexes, talented with charms, and had recently learned some basic wandless magic, none of those skills were very marketable in wizarding England today.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

_“I’m sorry, Ginny. I can’t really explain, but I just feel like this is something I need to do.” Harry ran his thumb around the rim of his coffee cup._

_“I know. And I really do wish you the best, but just know that although we’ll all be here for you when you come home, I might not... well, wait for you, you know?” Ginny had been seeing the signs for a while. She was over the initial heartbreak, and was now convinced that this was the best for both of them._

_Besides, maybe she could finally accept Oliver Wood’s invitation to the pub after the next match._

_“Don’t you feel as if something’s been missing since the end...” Harry paused. The Weasley family had suffered tremendous losses in the war - they all had. But that family took three years to put itself back together. “I mean, not like... never mind.”_

_Ginny put her hand on his arm. “No, Harry, I understand. It isn’t just those people who aren’t with us anymore. It’s everything that had been happening, and all we worked toward is finally just done. This isn’t uncommon for people coming back from a war. The key is to find your new place in life. And if you need to leave the country to do that, then I think you should.”_

_Harry smiled. “You’re the best. Thanks. Now, I have one more request.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“Can you take care of the house for me while I’m gone?”_

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Leaving Xian, Harry didn’t really have an itinerary. It had been the same as he crossed Turkey, went down into Pakistan, India, then China. All the time, he just felt he needed to move East.

This wasn’t like a strong calling that some wizards had felt. It was just something in him that pushed him onward. “No, this isn’t the right place, either,” his inner voice would cry. Most of the time, he stayed at hostels, sometimes shrines or temples if they were run by wizards. But the more he explored this land of Ancient Yaoguai, Jiangshi, and Zhulong, the closer he felt to his spiritual home.

He traveled from Xian to Wuhan on the back of a vegetable truck, then intended to use a temple spirit-travel service from Wuhan all the way to Qingdao. At first, when he learned he would be traveling several hundred kilometers, he was skeptical about the safety of such travel, but an interpreter assured him it was quite common in ancient times.

“Your kind would travel through the shrines from one side of China to the other,” the interpreter told him. He handed his bamboo and brass pipe over to Harry. “In fact, it was said that at one time a man went from Shanghai to Sichuan and only had to dust off his beard when he arrived.”

“So, it’s similar to Floo travel?” Harry asked. He took a quick puff of the pipe, coughed, choked, and handed it back.

“Floo is what?”

“Never mind,” Harry croaked. “As long as it’s safe.”

“Safe enough for you to go to from Shanghai to Fukuoka.”

“Whatever that is, it sounds good to me. I just need to get to Qingdao.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

The journey was actually very nice. It _was_ similar to Floo travel, but very quick, like Apparating. And instead of being covered in soot, there was just a faint smell of the ceremonial incense left in his clothes.

And the temple was even nicer. Unlike some of the smaller shrines he’d been to in Shiyan, Jingmen, and Xiantao, this was a large, clean building that had been immaculately preserved. Beautiful ink drawings adorned the sides of the shrine where he appeared, and the mats on the floor were woven with gold and red threads among the bamboo.

“Erm, nihao*?” Harry didn’t know many words other than hello, goodbye, thank you, and toilet.

(*hello)

But it didn’t seem to matter at this shrine, anyway. The temple was empty, and there were no monks in attendance. This seemed a little odd to Harry, since he was sure the temple at Qingdao was supposed to be pretty busy.

He stepped down and away from the shrine, and looked around. This wasn’t what he had expected at all. There was, of course, calligraphy on the walls in that beautiful Chinese writing, but other things about the temple seemed a little off.

The Buddhas that were on the pedestals weren’t carved in a Chinese style, and the colors - they were all wrong. Instead of mostly gold, red, black, and white, this temple was painted in every color imaginable.

The drawings on the wall weren’t of men in traditional Chinese dress, either. Instead the men were wearing what looked like top hats, only made of straw, and the women were dressed in...

“Nugusaeyo*?”

(*Who is it?)

The voice came from the courtyard off to the right of the shrine.

“Seonghami eotteoke doeseyo?*” An old man dressed in simple gray and blue robes came into the main room where Harry was standing.

(*What is your name?)

“What? Oh, that’s... not Chinese. Erm, I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”

The man nodded, narrowed his eyes at Harry, and looked over to the shrine from which Harry had come. He held up his hand, motioning for Harry to stay where he was, then turned back to the corridor.

“Gunwoo!” He called out. A young boy of about ten or so came running into the room, dressed in knee-length shorts and a T-shirt that read ‘call me your wingman.’

“Neh?” The boy asked the older man. He then turned and looked at Harry standing in the middle of the room. “Oh, English. I speak it very good.”

Harry relaxed and let out a long breath. “Oh, brilliant. I’m hoping you can help me. I was trying to get to Qingdao.”

 The boy looked taken aback. “Qingdao? Is in China. China.” He smiled and ran up to Harry. “You’re in Gwangju. Korea.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Lee Gunwoo and his sister Lee Nakyung both worked at the temple with their father and grandfather. Among other things, they acted as interpreters when any waegook* would come to visit. They were fraternal twins, very good with languages, and they were Squibs.

(*foreigners)

“Grandfather say more are born without magic every year.” Nakyung was definitely the more intellectual of the two. “But those who have it are not very much better. More weak.” She showed Harry to a small room with a pile of bedding in the corner. “For travelers. sinjeon, er... temple has...” she was struggling with her words.

“It’s alright. This is a room for travelers. The temple has many travelers?” Harry asked.

“Un. Many. We have a website. But only, um, not magic people? Only they can use website. For people like you, with magic, we have other buildings the others cannot see.”

Harry smiled. “Aah, I see. So this part of the temple, this room, and the one I came out of, are only for magical folk? That makes sense.”

She nodded. “Yes! Magical folk and not magical folk see the other parts.”

He went over to the pile of blankets and cushions and set his satchel down next to it. “What do you call non-magical folk here?”

The girl blushed. “Tokki ddal” she said, giggling. “It’s not very good, though. Daughter of rabbit. Meaning, flighty, many of them born, and running around everywhere.”

Well, it made sense to Harry. He knew that a lot of wizarding communities looked down on Muggles, but at least here they seemed to appreciate them as part of nature. “I understand.” He smiled back at her. “If it’s alright, I think I’m going to sleep now. It’s been a long day, and I still don’t know how I ended up in Korea when I was supposed to be in China.”

She tilted her head. “Supposed to be in China?”

“Yes, that means--“

“Un, yes, I know. But I wonder why you think you were supposed to be there. If you are here now, aren’t you supposed to be here?” She shrugged, tucked her hair behind her ear, and left the room.

Harry sat there for a moment thinking about what she said. Why was he convinced he was supposed to be in China? And even more to the point was why he was sent to Gwangju, instead.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

When he woke up in the morning, Harry felt energized. His whole body had released its tension overnight, and his joints and muscles were free of all the aches he’d been feeling during the whole journey. There was no popping or cracking as he stretched his neck, no strain as he pushed himself off the floor and stood in the middle of the room. He’d been sleeping on the floor of his rooms since he entered India, so he knew that wasn’t it.

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered to himself. “Whatever it is, it worked.”

Just inside the door, someone had brought him a tray of food on a little stand. It was rice, soup, a small piece of smoked fish, and some pickles.

It was the most amazing meal he’d had in a long time. He’d gotten used to eating with chopsticks in China, but these were very different. They were long, thin, flat metal, and they were actually a little difficult to use. In the end, Harry opted for the spoon they had given him.

 

**  
**

 

As he ate, he mused over why he was in Korea. He had plainly stated that he was going to Qingdao when he entered that shrine. Was it possibly he said something wrong and ended up in...

“Gwangju... Qingdao,” he muttered to himself as he sucked on the end of his spoon. “No matter how you pronounce them, they’re very different.”

“Spirit travel doesn’t need words.” Gunwoo slid the door open and set some clean clothes inside the room. “Your Floos need words to work. Words and powder? Spirit shrines are using desires and um... like ‘important’ or emergencies?”

Harry set down the spoon. “Urgency?”

Gunwoo nodded. “Maybe that. Something like ‘this is something you must do.’ At least that’s how we think about it.” He looked over at the food tray. “Finished?”

Harry nodded and handed Gunwoo the tray. “Yes, thank you. It was delicious.”

So, spirit travel looked at desires and needs. Thinking of it that way, maybe there was something he needed to do here in Korea.

“After you dress, today Nakyung and me will be taking you to a place where you can stay longer than one night.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, I guess I need to figure out where I’m going to stay and for how long.” Harry looked at the clothes the boy brought him. It was a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with more strange English writing on it. ‘Make way for Amazing.’

Really now? Amazing?

“You will like this place. It’s run by a... other waegook! He only speaks little Korean, but is good with Japanese and English.” Gunwoo gave him a ‘thumbs up’ on his way out.

“Another waegook? Foreigners seem to be pretty common here.” At least now he knew he would have a place to stay and a couple of very enthusiastic guides to show him there.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

The kids took Harry around town on their way to the hostel. Harry was impressed with the number of scooters zipping around the city. And somehow the cars managed to squeeze along the narrow streets, with other cars parked on each side. And they didn’t even use magic!

Every spare inch of space seemed to be taken by scooters and cars and snack carts. Each building stood as tall as those in downtown London, and on every floor Korean writing declared the name, description, phone number, and sometimes website of the business.

It was a town full of lights, color, and just life.

Harry loved it. He loved the people, the energy, the feeling of claustrophobia combined with the strong wind blowing off of the mountains. He loved the smell of spicy food, the pictures of shaved ice, and all of those crazy rabbit-daughter Muggles out there enjoying every bit of their lives.

“So, tell me about this place where I’ll be staying.” Harry had to resist the temptation to buy something that looked like cheese and smelled like fish. On a stick. Dipped in soup! So, he decided he’d distract himself by asking the children some questions. “Is it like a hotel?”

“It isn’t like a hotel,” Gunwoo told him. “It’s more like a place with rooms where your magics won’t be noticed much.”

Nakyung took Harry’s hand. “There are many magical creatures around here, and they like feeling people’s magic.” She shrugged. “This is the land of Gumiho, Dokkaebi, and Bulgasari. They like old places like Gwangju. And they might want to be close to magical people.”

“And then there’s Gwishin,” Gunwoo said solemnly.

“What’s that?” Harry asked. They had been walking through the main part of Shinae, or downtown district, but the kids pulled Harry aside, down a side street full of stores selling hanbok* and traditional wedding ornaments.

(*traditional Korean clothes)

They stopped in front of a shop that carried hanbok, bedding, and wedding gifts. Gunwoo pointed to a small table upon which were a number of figurines. “Gumiho, the fox with nine tails. Dokkaebi, tricky creatures with magic in their... um bangmangi.”

“Club... stick,” Nakyung clarified.

“Yes, that. It’s like a magic wand, but a club. This one, it is Bulgasari... they eat metal - iron.”

Gunwoo then pointed to an unfurled scroll with pictures of mostly women, legless, floating in mid-air. They were all wearing white hanbok, and most of them looked dark and wrinkled. “Gwishin are spirits of dead people. They stay because they haven’t finished living.”

Nakyung nodded. “Something they must do, still is... um...”

“There’s something left unfinished,” Harry stated. He knew this all too well. “So, they stick around until it’s finished.”

“Some never go to the underworld. Some stay here. Gwishin. They like us very much because we see them and can give them offerings of food.” Gunwoo pulled Harry away from the window. “Let’s go. The place is at the end of this street.”

It was actually quite a long street with hardly any business at all. Each shop had at least one shopkeeper in it, but there was no pedestrian traffic, no customers, and only a couple people passed them on scooters. It almost seemed as if the place had been evacuated.

“What’s going on here? The other part of downtown seemed so vibrant and lively, but this place...” Harry pondered to himself.

“It’s the in-between place. There are some places like this in every city in Korea,” Gunwoo offered.

“Where spirits, magic, and humans all go because it’s made of, um, old memories,” Nakyung finished.

“Nostalgia. That’s what we call it.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s a place where anyone or anything can go and feel a connection to the past.”

The twins nodded and smiled, glad that this waegook understood them. “Is there places like this where you are from?”

“Not like this,” Harry admitted. Of course there were a few sites in England and Europe, but nothing that was such a mix of new and old and ancient where spirits, wizarding folk, and Muggles could all go. “This is actually pretty amazing.”

The continued down the road until they came to a large building with a wooden storefront. “I should tell you first,” Nakyung said, running in front of Harry. “This waegook is... well, he’s not always talking much in English. Mostly, if he isn’t speaking little English, he speaks, um...”

“Japanese,” the boy finished. “He’s waegook, um, like you, but his son is from Japan. And he is from Japan last time, too.”

Harry shrugged. “Alright. I don’t speak Japanese or Korean, so I hope he can at least understand a little English.”

The kids giggled. “Oh, he can understand English. He doesn’t talk much we said, but when he does talk, it’s always correcting, correcting, correcting!” Gunwoo stood with his fists on his waist, then shook a finger at Nakyung. “It is were, not are! Say it, ‘for me to understand’, not ‘for I to understand.”

Nakyung’s giggles turned into fits of laughter. “Yes! Just like that!”

“Right, so he’s something of an English teacher, whether you like it or not.”

“Mmm,” the kids nodded. “Come this way. Around this building, then one more block, and we will be at the place.” Nakyung took Harry’s hand again and led him around the wooden-front building to the back.

There was an odd-looking alley lined with stoops. Each stoop had a bowl of rice, mandu*, oranges, and dried fish on it. “Here is where is all the offerings to Gwishin. People leave this food for the Gwishin so they will not be hungry. They do not need food to survive, of course, but they are unhappy and hungry if they do not receive offerings.” Gunwoo pointed out that one of the bowls had a photograph of someone behind it. “Recent dead.”

(*Korean steamed dumplings)

Harry wondered how things could be so different here. Back in England, the dead remained dead, or they would become a ghost to haunt a specific place. It seemed that the rules here were very different, and even the afterlife was far more complicated.

“Will we see any gwishin today?” Harry asked.

Nakyung pointed at a reddish-gray building at the end of the row. “There it is. Midori. That’s the name of the place.” She ran ahead and disappeared inside.

“She’ll get Hiro for you.” Gunwoo assured Harry.

“Is Hiro the, um, waegook?”

“No, Hiro is his son. Hiroyuki. He’s much nicer than Mr. Midori.” Gunwoo led Harry up to the front of the building. It looked a little like the temple they had just come from, with blue tiles on the roof over the door, and wooden pillars along the front. But it was only the first floor of the building that looked like a temple. The next several floors looked like any other building in the city, with signs advertising... something... in the windows above, and bright flashy lights on top.

Nakyung peeked her head outside again and smiled. “You can come in now, Hiro will help you with your things.”

Harry entered the building and slipped off his shoes. Gunwoo put them on the shelf by the door, then ushered him inside. “This is Hiroyuki, he’s our friend.” Gunwoo pointed to a young Asian boy wearing a T-shirt that just said ‘Vitamin C’, sitting on the counter. “And behind him is his father, Mr. Midori.”

Standing behind Hiro, with a stack of papers in his hand was a man with medium length, pale blond hair. Some of it was pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his neck, but most of it was covering his face. “Your grammar has improved, Gunwoo,” he said in a voice Harry would never, could never forget. “So much so that...”

The man looked up, and met Harry’s eyes. There was no mistake.

Now, if that man standing before him didn’t show that flash of recognition, he might have been able to chalk it up to some strange case of a doppleganger or polyjuice, as absurd as it sounded. But fate was even stranger than that. Standing before him, after having gone missing for over six years, was Draco Malfoy.

“Hello, Draco,” Harry said in a near-whisper.

“Harry Potter,” Draco whispered back.

 

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

There were so many questions hanging in the air, so many things Harry wanted to know, and so many pieces he wanted to put together, but somehow nothing more was said that day. Draco had said something to Hiroyuki in Japanese, then left the room. After that, Hiro, Gunwoo, and Nakyung showed Harry to his room.

“Don’t mind him,” Gunwoo said as he put Harry’s satchel on the bed. “He never talks to people much.”

“I don’t think he says much to us any time we come here,” Nakyung added.

Hiro just stood by the door, his brow furrowed in thought. After a few minutes he looked up at Harry. “If you need anything, come downstairs and ring the bell,” he said softly. Without another word to either Harry or the twins, he turned around and left.

“Oh? Hiro?” Nakyung went after him.

Harry sighed. “It’s alright. I don’t know if you guessed, but Mr. Midori and I have met before. Things have been rather... complicated in our lives.”

“Complicated is what?” Gunwoo asked.

“Complicated is... difficult, strange, and unusual.” Harry pulled out his wand, transfigured the small chest of drawers into a wardrobe and set about unpacking. “I don’t think I should say too much more about it. This world we live in now is very different from the one I used to know. I think I would like to keep them separate for now.”

Gunwoo nodded. “It’s okay. I will come tomorrow to bring you some food and show you the city.”

A few hours after the twins left, Harry was sitting in his room, trying to clear his mind, meditating about nothing, and doing his best to erase all thoughts about the day. And every time he thought he almost reached the point where his mind was truly clear, he would see Draco’s face again. The man wasn’t shocked. In fact, his look seemed to be one of acceptance combined with confusion. As if he had expected to be found at some point.

“But not by me,” Harry muttered to himself. He lifted his head and looked up at the strange criss-cross light fixture on the ceiling. “Why am I here of all places?”

There was a knock on the door. “May I come in?” Draco asked.

Harry stood and opened the door. “Of course.”

Draco looked around the room. He stared at the wardrobe for a few moments and then noticed that the rest of the room was relatively bare. “You pack light.”

“Doesn’t make much sense in taking everything with you when you’re trying to leave it all behind.” Harry shrugged and sat on the bed, then motioned to the only chair in the room.

“No, it’s alright. This will only take a moment.” Draco cleared his throat. “Hiroyuki knows nothing about my past. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t care, and I don’t think I want him to know. As far as he’s concerned, I found him a few years ago in Japan. After the typhoon, I stepped in as his father, and now that’s who I am.”

“Is he...”

“A Squib - mostly. It’s complicated. How... how long have you been here?”

“Just a day now. Two days, I suppose. I just came from China,” Harry shifted on the bed and toed off his socks. “Came across China, I should say.”

“Aah, and you were in a temple.” He muttered under his breath, “So desu ka.*” Draco cleared his throat after a few moments and looked over at Harry. “He doesn’t have magic as we know it. Most children born to magical parents here are born without these days. And those who do have some kind of magical ability are very weak. Still, it doesn’t mean they can just throw him away.”

(*So that’s how it is - Japanese)

As Draco said the words, Harry wondered if he knew just how different he sounded. “You’ve changed.”

“Of course. Did you expect me to be the same brat I was when I was in school?”

“No. But then again, memories do weird things to our interpretations of events.” He stood and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Midori,” Harry said earnestly.

He lifted his hair off of his forehead and showed the man the small patch of flesh-colored plaster where his scar should be. “I fully understand wanting to forget the past and move on.”

Draco nodded and headed toward the door. He paused for a moment with his hand on the handle. “Breakfast is at 7 tomorrow. Would you like me to wake you?”

“I’ll be up. Over the past two months, my internal clock has changed. I’m up with first light, and asleep an hour after dark.” There was an uncomfortably long pause which Harry felt he ought to break. “It’s good to see you again.”

Before Draco left the room, Harry was sure he heard the word “Likewise,” come from the man.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

 

  
****  
****   


 

The next morning came after the most peaceful night’s sleep. Harry scarcely dreamed, and what he could remember of his dreams was all majestic green mountains, clean rivers, and serene landscapes. And, just as he’d predicted, morning came and he was awake with the sun.

Breakfast, however, was not quite as serene, and certainly not what he’d expected. For some reason, Harry had thought Draco would be a father figure more like Professor Snape than Molly and Arthur Weasley.

First off, there were three languages being slung around the breakfast table. “Hiroyuki, your breakfast - bballi bballi!*”

(*hurry, hurry in Korean)

“Aah, Otou-san...”

(*Aww, dad– in Japanese)

“Kyou wa chotto osoin desu ne?*”

(*Today you’re a little slow, aren’t you? in Japanese)

“Erm... Good morning?” Harry just stood in the doorway for a few moments.

“Damn! Is it already seven?” Draco headed over to the corner of the kitchen and picked up Hiroyuki’s backpack.  “Late, Hiro. You’re going to be late.”

“Uh, no, it isn’t seven yet. Half past six, I think. I’m just early.” Harry sat down at the little round wooden table next to the boy. “Good morning.”

Hiro smiled up at him. He had some soup on his chin and a little piece of seaweed in his teeth. “Good Mouneen.” The kid seemed to still have trouble with some of the pronunciation, but at least he was trying - and doing a pretty good job at it. “You are Harry, yes?”

Harry nodded. “And you’re Hiro?”

“Midori Hiroyuki.” He turned back to his soup, rice, and vegetables. “Hiroyuki. Midori. Suoh.” He said between bites.

Harry looked up at Draco. “Suoh?”

Draco put Hiro’s backpack down next to the door frame and sat across from Harry. “His father’s name. Family name. It’s a story I’ll have to tell later because right now, if Hiro doesn’t finish his breakfast, he’ll miss the bus and be late for school.”

Hiro looked up. “Scootah?”

“How about no. There is a guest here now. Am I going to leave the new guest alone in the house?” Draco tapped on the table next to the bowl of soup. “Finish. Hayaku kudasai!”

(Quickly, please in Japanese.)

“Scooter?” Harry asked.

“Scootah is-- zhoooorrm...rrrrrurrrr...” Hiro made gestures with his hands of something taking some pretty sharp turns. “Scootah.”

“Finished?” Draco asked, putting his face down next to Hiro’s.

Hiro set his chopsticks across the bowl of soup and the spoon across his rice. “Gochisousama deshita.*”

(*A phrase said in Japan when finished eating.)

“Right, now run. You have about five minutes!” Draco helped Hiro put on his backpack and ushered him out the door. After a few moments he came back into the kitchen. “Sorry about that, it seems that he’s a little more excited than usual this morning. I think he was stalling so he could see you before he left.”

“No, that’s... it’s fine.” Harry smiled. “Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath. In fact, this was the first time he’d felt really at home, amused, and alive since he left on his journey. No, even before that. This may have been the most amusing moment since...

“Coffee?” Draco offered. “Or tea? It’s green tea here. But then, if you came from China, I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter to me. At this point, I’m used to anything.”

Draco nodded. “Coffee, then. I feel as if I need it this morning.”

“You didn’t sleep well? I slept like a--“

“Slept fine. Nothing to do with sleep here. Sleep is... it’s never a problem. Sometimes waking up is the problem.”

The kitchen was small, but neatly designed. Everything was tucked away in its own place, and there really wasn’t much space for anything unnecessary. In fact, it reminded Harry a lot of his room when he was a boy. Whether it was the cupboard under the stairs or his own bedroom, or his trunk at Hogwarts, everything had to have its own place. He smiled at the thought that the two of them had some similarity.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Draco asked, setting a mug of coffee on the table in front of Harry.

“I supposed soup and rice, if that’s what you have.”

Draco chuckled. “Well, that’s what Hiro likes, but I was going to make myself a Spam and onion omelet.”

Harry sighed. “An omelet would be brilliant.” In fact, the whole time he was traveling, Harry never really missed the food from back home. He delighted in the different cuisines from around the world, and it never occurred to him that he might want a Yorkshire pudding or fish and chips, or an omelet.

That is, until he arrived at the Midori house. Maybe it was seeing Draco again that brought back some latent desire for home. Or maybe it was just the fact that the thought of eggs, onions, and Spam made him feel welcomed.

“So... Spam?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Draco shrugged. “They love it over here. In Korea, your choices are chicken - which is everywhere, pork - and that includes every kind of pork, expensive beef, and lots and lots of seafood.”

He cut the omelet in half and slid it onto two plates, then put one of the plates in front of Harry. “I’m not big on seafood for breakfast. I blame it on eighteen years of kippers.” Draco took two spoons from a ceramic box on the table and handed one to Harry. “Spoon or chopsticks?”

Harry took the spoon and smiled. “Thanks. I’ve tried Korean chopsticks. They’re not what one would call “easy to use.” Those two kids - Gunwoo and Nakyung tried to help me. In the end, I had to transfigure them into proper sized chopsticks.”

“So you still use magic.” It was definitely more of a statement than a question. Draco stared down into his coffee and sighed.

“Sometimes, yeah. Right handy thing it is, y’know?” Harry tilted his head. “Is there something wrong with using magic here? I mean, it isn’t illegal in Korea, is it?”

Draco shook his head. “No, not illegal at all. In fact the National and Provincial Governments all agree that it would be fantastic if more people could use magic here. In fact, if you were to have a family here, you’d get a substantial monthly stipend if you have more than two children.” He took a sip of his coffee. “In hopes that there might be a few more born every year.”

“Birthrates are low?” Harry set down his spoon.

“Birthrates for magical children are low.” He looked over and nodded at Harry’s plate. “Finished?”

“Uh, not yet.” Harry took another bite. “Why are they low?”

Draco sat back in his chair. “Then you haven’t felt it yet.”

Harry shook his head. “Felt what?”

“Magic here - in Korea - slips away. More and more children are born as Squibs. The adult witches and wizards, or mabeobsa, are also losing their powers. Lucky for them, they have other forms of magic that they use. But the rest of us...” Draco picked up his plate and mug and took them to the sink.

“You mean, you’re losing your magic, too?” Harry put down his spoon.

“A little bit at a time, yes. But... Oh, I don’t know how to explain this, I don’t feel the loss. It’s still there, I just can’t use it as much anymore.”

Harry brought his dishes over and set them down on the tiny counter. He marveled at the sight of Draco Malf- Midori washing dishes in a small sink with a bright pink and green sponge. There was a very tranquil and serene look on the man’s face.

He finally realized what Draco had meant when he said he was a different person.

“Can I stay here with you?”

“You are staying here with me, Harry. Remember, you have a room right upstairs?”

“No, I mean, can I stay?” Harry turned and leaned against the counter. “I’ve been wondering for so long, I think now I need to stay here for a while. And I’m asking because...”

“Because you don’t know how long you’ll be here.” Draco put the dishes in the drying rack and set the sponge back up on a small ceramic holder. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “Let me think about it. I won’t chase you away, however, I have other things to consider, as well.”

“Hiroyuki?” Harry knew the answer before he even said the name. There was something about that boy that touched Draco, and as curious as Harry was about what had happened with him, he knew well enough not to ask.

One day, he would know. Or he wouldn’t. That was one thing he had learned while traveling through India. The sooner you learn not to dwell, the sooner you can become content with the questions that cause turmoil in your soul.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Turmoil in the household, however, is unavoidable with three ten-year-olds running around speaking three different languages, each making it their own personal mission to make sure Harry got not a moment of peace whatsoever.

When Gunwoo and Nakyung first came over, Harry thought it would be a nice treat for Hiro to have someone his own age to play with. However, it very soon became apparent that this was a daily occurrence, and he could look forward to more than his share of this excitement nearly every day.

Now, Harry loved kids. He loved having this kind of youthful energy around. But after the fifth time of having his door knocked upon, only to find the hallway empty of all but children’s giggles when he opened the door, he was well and done with the games.

He left his room with every intent to find the kids and have words with them, but after going through the downstairs, then out into the yard, he became distracted.

Out there on some kind of low, long square bench, wearing a hanbok (traditional Korean robes), Draco was sitting under the tree smoking a bamboo and brass pipe. The sun filtered through the tree, casting splotches of shadows on his shoulders and back. His hair positively glistened in the filtered light, and he had the most peaceful look on his face.

This was not the image of a man who Harry had last seen badly scarred after a horrible, bitter war. His face showed no torment, no deep-harbored anger. Instead, in his place, Harry would have sworn he was gazing upon an angel.

There were more giggles coming from somewhere behind him - somewhere in the house, but it no longer mattered. Harry was mesmerized by the little wisps of hair that had fallen out of Draco’s ponytail. He watched the smoke as it winded up, and then was blown away by unfelt breezes.

Before he knew it, he found himself slowly walking closer and closer until he was standing right up behind the platform. Far on the other side, there were rows of large brown clay pots, which Harry later found out were filled with kimchi, pickles, salt, and hot pepper pastes. Harry stared at them in hopes of drawing his thoughts away from the man sprawled out before him.

“Have a seat,” Draco said softly. “The weather is nice today.” He turned around and looked up at Harry. “Do you smoke?”

Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat. The vision of Draco from the back was amazing, but with the sun shining down on his face, it highlighted his steel gray eyes and made his hair look like it was made of finely spun gold.

“I... no, I mean, I have, but not much. Well, I have smoked, but smoking isn’t something I really... When I was in China--“

Draco burst out laughing. Harry’s blathering on about smoking was just too much. “Here. Take it. A few puffs on a pipe now and then isn’t going to kill you.”

It was then that Harry noticed Draco’s arm. The man had his arms covered until now, and he hadn’t actually seen what was underneath his shirts. But there, on his forearm instead of the dark mark, was a Japanese tattoo of a Phoenix rising out of flames, and reaching up toward a dragon on his upper arm. A full sleeve of bright and beautiful colors to cover up that black stain that he’d carried with him since he was a very young man.

He decided not to ask about it. This was apparently Draco’s way of dealing with his past.

Harry sat on his far edge of the platform. “Tobacco?”

“Mmm. Don’t need to lose my senses. Tobacco is enough for me.” He lay back and stretched out in the shade. “Got summer hols in two weeks.”

Harry took a puff off the pipe and relaxed a little. He leaned back with the pipe between his teeth and looked down at Draco. “Summer hols?”

“Hiro will be out of school. Nakyung and Gunwoo are going with their parents to China. I was thinking I’d take Hiro up into the mountains for the week.” He rolled over to lay on his side, pillowing his head on his arm. “You can either stay here by yourself, or you can come with us.”

“Up to the mountains? Like, a cabin?”

“More like tents, Potter,” Draco rolled onto his back again and stretched his arms and legs out fully. “Camping. Sleeping out in nature, up in the mountains away from everything.”

Harry set down the pipe, keeping it in place with a light sticking charm. “Well, that sounds great, and of course I’d like to go with you, but, really? Camping?”

“Fishing, hiking, late night nude dips into the mountain lake, and cooking on a campfire.” Draco sat up and smiled right into Harry’s face. “Although camping Korean-style requires quite a lot of gear. Tents, cots, sleeping bags, fishing tackle, stove, pots, pans, clothes, hats, walking sticks, gloves, arm covers, boots... oh, the list goes on. We may have to rough it British-style this time.”

He was too close. Harry could feel Draco’s breath on his lips, and that devilish smile with sparkling silver eyes was just too much for him to handle, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He turned away, stood, and pretended like nothing had just happened. “Sounds brilliant. So, are we going to portkey there, or Apparate, or...”

The pipe fell over. Apparently his sticking charm had worn off. Very quickly. Too quickly.

Draco picked up the pipe and put it back in his mouth. “We take the scooter.” As he stood and walked back into the house, Harry watched him intently. The man seemed... disappointed somehow.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Not having Gunwoo and Nakyung around even for one day had an effect on Hiro.

They had all decided not to leave until Sunday to avoid some of the traffic, and for that one, long day Hiro spent in the company of just Harry and his father.

The adults were packing. Something that wasn’t very interesting for a 10-year-old boy. Especially since they had already packed the fishing gear, tent and sleeping bags. Now it was all the boring stuff like pots and pans and food.

“It looks like we only have two more packets of noodles,” Draco said, looking deep into the back of one of his cupboards. “I’ll run to the store, is there anything else we need?”

“Choco-milk!” Hiro piped in. “Popcorn, Pepero*!”

(*a Korean cookie stick dipped in chocolate)

Harry mussed Hiro’s hair. “How about canned peaches, spam, and marmalade?”

Draco sighed, still holding onto the cupboard handle. “How about if I just make my own list, go shopping, and you two entertain yourself for an hour or so?” He put on his baseball cap and picked up his wallet from the sideboard. “Don’t burn down the house while I’m gone, yeah?”

After he left, Hiro moved so he was sitting across from Harry. His boredom seemingly had dissipated, and he had a very serious look on his face.

“Hullo, what’s got you now?” Harry braced his chin on his hands. “Got something to tell me?”

Hiro nodded. “Things change when you came here.” He had such a somber tone, Harry wondered if he might have done something wrong. “I think he’s better now.”

“Was he ill? Did he have some sickness?”

“Not sick, but... erm... kimochi warui deshita.”

(Feeling bad– in Japanese)

“Ki mochi?”

“His...” Hiro tapped on his chest, “wasn’t feeling good. Now, he’s feeling better, though. Because you came to... you came here.”

Harry paused for a moment to take in this observation. “Do you think he was homesick? Do... you think he wants to go back home?”

Hiro waved his hands. “No, no, that’s not it. Not go home, but you should stay. He’s better with you here.” He nodded. “And you like him, too. Since you like him, you should stay with us.”

Was it really that obvious? That even a ten-year-old could see through him? Here he was, bearing this deep secret for so many years, and a kid he hadn’t even known a week was able to see right through him.

Not only that, the way Draco looked in the sunlight stirred emotions in him that he didn’t even know he had. Just the night before, Harry’s dreams were filled with the feeling of Draco’s breath on his lips. The warmth of the sun, the gentle sound of the breeze in that tree, and the shiny glint of silver from those eyes clinched it. He was falling... again.

“Like Nakyung and Gunwoo. I’m stay with them forever!”

“Staying,” Harry said, still distracted by his own realization. “And I don’t know... what if he doesn’t want me to stay?”

“Then we make him want you.” Hiroyuki smiled a big, toothy smile again. “High five?”

Harry smiled and held his hand up for Hiro to give him a “high five.”

He thought that even if it didn’t work, even if there was no chance that he and this kid could make Draco feel even an inkling of emotion toward him, it was well worth taking a chance.

If nothing else, just to see Draco in the sun on this camping trip.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

When Draco said they would be traveling by scooter, Harry had envisioned that they would each be riding a scooter with Hiro riding along with Draco. However, the reality was far more absurd. There was, in fact, only one scooter - a two-seater with impressive saddle bags, and the plan was to have Draco driving in the front seat, Harry hanging onto him, and Hiro basically riding in his father’s lap.

“This can’t possibly be safe,” Harry muttered as he watched Draco strap all the gear in the form of one large roll onto the back of the scooter.

Draco’s pipe was hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and he was wearing jeans, a leather jacket, gloves, some sort of mask hanging around his neck that he could pull up over his face, and a rounded helmet with a visor.  “Oh, have faith. I’m a good enough driver.”  He took the pipe out of his mouth, tapped out the bowl, and stuffed it into his pocket. He reached into the saddle bag and pulled out another helmet and mask. “Bottomless saddlebags - one of my few magical indulgences these days. Come on, you’ll have to wear these.”

Harry took the gear and put it on. He felt a little ridiculous - until he saw Hiro come out of the house wearing a similar helmet and mask. The kid locked the door and ran up to the scooter, seating himself comfortably in the front.

“All right. Can’t be any worse than riding on a truck across Dehli.” Harry seated himself behind Draco and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist.

Without another word, they were off.

Driving around Korea on a scooter for Harry was like living in a world without any rules whatsoever. They rode along the sidewalk, ignored traffic lights, made their way out of the city and up to the highway without anyone blinking an eye.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Harry asked, unsure if anyone could hear him over the sound of the traffic and that little 125cc engine.

“You’ve been here two weeks. I’ve been here two years. I think you can trust me on this one.”

And, in fact, he should have trusted Draco. He was not the only insane scooter-driver. Everyone on the road who was driving one of those tiny-engined bikes was zipping around as if they were on their own private driveway. For several hundred kilometers they rode along highways, by-ways, side roads and streets that probably ought to have been one-way, but somehow managed to squeeze three cars into a space that could scarcely fit two.

Still, somehow they made it out of even that small town, and up into the mountains.

It was, to put it mildly, a truly amazing feeling being so far up. Harry had, of course, been in the mountains before. After all, he’d traveled across India and China, and had been in some of the tallest mountains in the world. However, this was something completely different. These mountains were young and dry. They were bereft of actual life in themselves, and the only living things were just wandering around on the ground.

These mountains were creatures in and of themselves. Not only was the vegetation lush and rich, and the birds and creatures that lived in them full of energy and life, but even the stones held their own magic. In fact, Harry hadn’t really realized it before, but his own magic had waned in the city, but up here, it felt as if it was all flowing back into him, and then through him back into nature.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Draco asked as he slowed down along a dirt road. “Feel the energy up here.”

“Yes.”

“The Muggles call these mountains “Grandmother Mountains.” They’re old and support all kinds of life. This is why I bring Hiro up here as often as I can.” He stopped the scooter at the end of the road and took off his helmet. “We walk the rest of the way.”

Harry got off the scooter and stretched his arms up into the air and then touched his toes. “I’m up for walking after that ride. Need help humping the gear?”

Draco shook his head. “Not up here. Magic is abundant. We’ll just levitate it the rest of the way.” He took out two wands, handed one to Hiro and used the other one, himself, to unload the saddlebags and roll of gear.

The whole area pulsed with magic. In fact, Harry was sure they could have all used the magic even without their wands if they wanted to.

They walked down a path that took them all the way to a large clearing with a stream, a rocky ridge, and a plateau full of lush green grass, flowers, and moss. The stream ran crystal clear over the rocks and Harry could see carp and catfish swimming around in the little pools of still water along the edges. Cattails grew along the far edge with a small line of trees that stretched from the water’s edge all the way up to a rocky outcropping and waterfall.

It was the most breathtakingly beautiful place Harry had ever seen.

“This is why we come here,” Draco whispered over his shoulder. “This is the place that gave me faith in magic again.”

And immediately, Harry knew it was what he had been looking for, as well. Through all of those countries, he’d been trying to find something like this place to restore him. A place where the world had been collecting magic. It wasn’t as fertile as some of the places he’d been in India, but the mysticism ran deeper than the human race here, and it was plain for anyone - Muggle or wizard - to feel if they just ventured a little out of their regular route.

He felt a small hand slip into his own and looked down to see Hiro’s face looking up at him. “I can use magic up here.”

“What?” Harry looked over at Draco. The man had already set up the tent and was organizing the fishing equipment.

“Remember I said he was something like a squib? Well, this is what I mean. He’s got it in him there somewhere, but he just can’t get to it down in the city. Most kids are like him.” He levitated the fishing gear closer to the water and started sorting out the other gear. “I’ll explain more later. Now, if you wouldn’t mind helping organize inside the tent? I think some of the living room furniture got jumbled around on the ride up here.”

Hiro darted into the tent and immediately started setting up his own small bedroom. Although the outward appearance was a small, domed, four-person tent, it was actually a small, two-bedroom wizarding tent. Hiro’s room was tiny - with only space for his cot, a bedside table, a lamp and a few toys. The other room wasn’t much larger with the full-size bed and a low dresser.

But the living area was beautiful. It was set up something like a Bedouin tent with dozens of cushions, a low wooden table with a grill set up in the center, hanging lamps in the corners, and two window flaps up at the top with stained-glass to color the filtered light as it came in.

“Do you want the bed or cushions?” Draco asked as he brushed past Harry carrying the sleeping bags and bedding. “Doesn’t matter to me, one’s just as comfortable as the other.”

“I’ll... sleep out here. This is lovely.”

“Bought it second-hand at a tiny shop in Daejeon. It was too small for many of the wizards around here, but the perfect size for the two of us.” He shrugged and headed into the bedroom. “Besides, I think it has a lot of old world charm. Something very Jeon Woo Chi about it.”

Harry shook his head and smiled. “Dunno who that is, but if this is his taste, I think I like the guy.”

“Very famous wizard. Lived a long time ago, and was... um... very tricky.” Hiro giggled and pointed to one of the hanging lamps. It vibrated for a moment, then began swinging. “Very tricky. Hee hee.”

Harry mussed his hair and nodded. “Nice trick,” he said, “but you’re still under age.”

“Not here, he isn’t.” Draco brushed his hands together to knock the dust off, then rubbed them on his trousers. “Remember? Trying to bring magic back into the populous? There’s no age limit for magic. If you can do it, you can do it. They try to cultivate that spirit in all the kids. Unfortunately, nobody’s figured out why they can’t yet.”

It made sense. If the country wanted to encourage the use of magic, why put restrictions on it. “Have you figured out what’s wrong yet?”

Draco put his hands on his waist. “I think so. It’s rather complicated, but I think it has to do with geography as much as anything.” He sat down on the cushions and motioned for Harry to do the same. Hiro ran into his room. “The Korean Peninsula is in a very strange position, if you haven’t noticed. First off, it’s a peninsula. Being surrounded by water means that it’s surrounded by the most abundant source of life, and yet still connected to the Earthly lay lines.”

He shifted on the cushions, brought out his pipe and tobacco and began filling the bowl. “Now, you’ve got China on one side with mysticism built from the fire of dragons. And Japan on the other side with the abundance of sea creatures and folklore that comes from the ocean.”

Earth, Fire, Water...

“The Korean Peninsula - this tiny little stretch of land - is home to over 4% of the world’s bird population,” Harry rattled off, suddenly understanding where all of this was going.

“Yes.”

“And the country is almost entirely mountains.”

“So, now you understand.” Draco lit the pipe and lay back in the cushions, closing his eyes. “You understand why this place is so unique.”

Harry tilted his head to the side and looked down at Draco, perfectly relaxed, stretched out on the cushions. “And I see why you don’t want to leave.”

He opened one eye, took the pipe out of his mouth and smiled. “You’re right. I don’t want to leave. Magic is drawn to areas that create an environment for it. This place is the crossroads for some of the most powerful magical forces on Earth, and instead of harnessing it for any one person to use and abuse, what does the land do? It stores it. Puts it away into a place where we can only use it under supervision and restriction of these amazing mountains.”

Was it even possible, what Draco was suggesting? “You mean, right now, we’re sitting on a mountain that’s giving us what we need, but just what we need?”

Draco nodded.

“The mountain?”

Draco nodded again. “And they’re everywhere. Every bit of this country is covered in them.”

“No wonder there have been no wizarding wars in Korea for almost 650 years.”

“Didn’t know you paid attention in history,” Draco handed the pipe over to Harry. “There are a couple other factors, of course. Jikji, for one. And like Hiroyuki said, Jeon Woo Chi.”

“I didn’t learn that much history.”

Draco laughed. “I’ll tell you about them later. For now, though, I’m sleepy. When you’re finished with that, clean the bowl, will you?” He waved his hand over at Harry and rolled over on the cushions.

“Right. Tap out the ashes and tuck it in your pocket again. Got it.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Fishing was an adventure. Hiroyuki was naturally just good at it. He told Harry that it was because he was Japanese, and the fish knew that he loved them more than the others. Harry was going to point out that he, too, was from an island nation, but then every time he tossed his line into the water, something would come and nibble off all the bait, leaving a bare hook behind.

Draco didn’t fish. “I don’t like the feel of it, I’m not good at it, I can’t seem to stare at a line of string for more than three seconds at a time, and if you make me do this, it’s just going to turn me grumpy and irritable, so I’d just as soon stay back and sit on this rock doing nothing for the next two hours, if you don’t mind.”

“Dad doesn’t fish.”

“I can see that. We don’t want him grumpy and irritable. I’ve seen that before, and it’s not a pretty sight,” Harry told Hiro, sitting next to him on a small folding chair.

“Did you show him your marks in math, too?”

After two hours, Hiro had, indeed, caught more than his fair share of fish. Four beautiful trout and a couple of smallish catfish were in his bucket. As for his own haul, Harry had, indeed caught one reasonably-sized fish, but nobody really knew what it was, so in the end, they tossed it back into the river.

Draco had fallen asleep on that rock.

“Go get him,” Hiro said, pushing Harry toward the rock where Draco was sleeping peacefully on his side. “I’ll take these to the fire.”

The rock Draco had chosen was a long, flat rock up on a hill that reached out just over the edge of the brook. He had conjured something of a pillow out of the moss that was growing there, and was still sound asleep when he got there. Harry stood so that he was blocking the sun from Draco’s face and nudged him with his foot. “Oi, wake up.”

One of Draco’s eyes squinted open and he looked up at Harry.

“We’re done fishing, and you’re done lazing around. Come and help me clean the trout.”

“Hiro caught them all?” Draco asked in a low, slow voice.

Harry sighed. “Of course. He’s got a knack for these things, I reckon.”

Draco pushed himself up. His blond hair spilled down into his face, and Harry watched him, as if in slow motion, as he rolled his head around, stretching his muscled, then wiped some sleep out of one eye with the back of one of his fingers. Looking from one side to the other, he gathered his surroundings, then tucked his hair behind his ear, sat up, and reached to the sky, twisting his spine and stretching like a cat.

It might as well have been a Russian Ballet as far as Harry was concerned. Every form of beautiful gathered at once in this man, from visual to mechanical, to some sort of unknown aura that set him apart from the rest of the human race.

Harry felt his heart sink into his chest and he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. Draco’s pipe had rolled down the rock and was laying on its side near the edge of the river. Harry picked it up, tapped out the ashes and handed it back to its owner. “Let’s go. Need a hand up?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said in a soft voice. “Ta mate.”

Harry stood there for a moment, then crouched down next to Draco. He reached up and plucked a small piece of moss out of Draco’s hair, showed it to him, smiled, and then left to join Hiro by the fire before he did anything stupid.

Like touch him.

Or kiss him.

“Do you know how to clean fish?” He asked Hiro as he arrived.

“Of course. Dad doesn’t like touching them, but I don’t care.” He went up to Harry and leaned in close. “So? Do you think he likes you yet?”

They looked over to where Draco was lowering himself off of the rock. “I don’t know,” Harry told him, “I can’t seem to think beyond how much I’m liking him.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

As far as camping nights went, this one was certainly one of the oddest nights Harry had ever experienced. They had all turned in early, full of delicious grilled trout and tired from the day’s journey. And Harry had settled in nicely on those cushions and was soon asleep.

However, sometime in the deepest, darkest time of night, Harry felt someone pull a blanket over him, and then heard the front of the tent open, and then close. There being a 50% chance that it was Hiroyuki who had ventured out, Harry decided he ought to at least check and see what - if not how - he was doing.

Harry pulled on his trousers and slipped on his sandals, then peeked out the front flap of the tent.

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. It wasn’t dark outside at all. In fact, aside from the moonlight, there were thousands - tens of thousands - of glowing bluish white orbs that looked almost like fireflies. And standing in the middle of these, waving his arm around as if he was conducting them in some kind of dance, was Draco, pipe in his mouth, moonlight bathing his face.

 

 

“It’s a different kind of magic,” Draco stated.

Harry was a little startled at first. He came out of the tent and looked around. The orbs clustered in waves of different colors around the different elements. Up in the air, they were all blueish white with flickers of copper-bronze. Around the smoldering embers of the fire, they clustered in yellow and red. Down in and around the water, it was all green and gray, and bright yellow ones floated in and around the grass and trees.

“You see it, don’t you?” Draco asked. He turned to Harry and one corner of his mouth curled up. “House colors.”

He was right. The elements glowed in the house colors. Sometimes they would intermingle, but they would always go back to their comfort areas.

Harry walked right up to Draco and lifted one hand. One of the orbs settled in his palm, and then another and another. Soon, he had over a dozen of them stacked in and around his hand and arm.

“They’re attracted to us because we know what they are. Because we can see them. If you look into the morning mists coming off the mountains, there are millions of these little guys floating around.”

Harry could feel Draco’s gaze on him.

“It really is amazing.”

“Yeah. Amazing.”

Harry looked up and met Draco’s eyes. Part of him wanted to do something - to take the risk that he’d been thinking of for so many days now. But the rest of him was sure he had no option but to hold himself back. That even though there was all of this magic around them, this couldn’t possibly be the right time for him to--

“You’re driving me absolutely bonkers, you know that?” Draco asked. His shoulders relaxed, he let his head hang, and laughed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’ll wager you don’t even know you’re doing it, do you?”

“Come again?” Harry’s hand was shaking and the orbs began falling off and floating away again.

“Walking into my hostel looking like... well, like that. And then staring at me, and laughing with Hiroyuki and then... oh, yeah, bending over to fetch my pipe earlier today? Showing off your perfect arse?”

Harry wasn’t sure if Draco was angry or not. It certainly sounded like he was angry. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Draco. But if you want to start slinging accusations, how about sitting in the sun under that tree wearing those robes? Or always having that hair fall into your face, just begging to be tucked behind your ear?”

“What?”

“You mean you weren’t doing it on purpose? Well, you’re a bloody natural at seduction, Draco.” Harry hadn’t realized that he had stepped right up to Draco until he found himself looking directly up into those eyes again. This time, bathed in moonlight and the mystical glow from all of the magical orbs. “And here you are again,” he whispered.

Draco slid an arm around Harry’s waist. “Yes. Here I am.”

Harry reached up and removed his glasses. “Now what?”

“Now you promise me you’re not going to leave.”

He could feel Draco trembling. Not just in his voice, but his hand was shaking, as well. This request was far more important to him than Harry had anticipated.

Harry hadn’t realized just how long the pause was until Draco sighed with what seemed like disappointment and relaxed his arm. If he didn’t answer, the moment would pass, and it would be too late.

He wrapped both arms around Draco’s waist, then pressed a kiss onto Draco’s jaw. “I’m not going to leave. Actually, I’ve already promised Hiro that--“

It was just like Draco to interrupt him. Of course being interrupted by means of one of the most amazing, soul-melting kisses humanity had ever known wasn’t something that would cause a lasting grudge in anyone. Least of all a man who was already well and truly in love.

And it wasn’t just the kiss. Harry began to feel a strength through him as all of that magic around them began to move, vibrate, and dance in and around them. In fact, when Draco finally slowed down and pulled his lips back ever-so-slightly, Harry could have sworn he was still being kissed. “I’m tired of being alone,” Draco whispered. “I know I’m not entirely alone. I have Hiro, and believe me, that miracle of a boy has kept me going these past few years, but in the back of my mind, I knew there was something else I was missing.”

Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder. He was actually still reeling from the kiss and all of that loose magic. In fact, through his ringing ears, he wasn’t sure he had heard Draco correctly. “He who seeks, so shall he find,” Harry quoted. “It’s what I had hoped for when I left England. I didn’t know what I was seeking, but...”

There was a rustling behind them. Harry instinctively grabbed Draco’s hand and stepped out in front of him. Draco rolled his eyes. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him close - one advantage of being a few inches taller than the other man. “Are you going to protect me from my own son?” he asked softly in Harry’s ear.

Hiro stumbled sleepily out of the tent and headed straight out toward the tree line.

“Where is he...?”

“It’s two in the morning, and he had more than his share of hot cocoa before bed, Harry. Why do you think I came out here, myself, in the middle of the night?”

“Riiight,” Harry tried to shift to one side, but found himself firmly held in place. “So, when we go back in, what do you think... sleeping arrangements?”

“Ready to jump into bed with me, are you?”

Hiro sleepily wandered back to the tent. He paused for a moment, turned around, and looked at the two men standing near the river. “They’re all about tonight, Dad. Lots of magic.”

“Yeah, lots of magic tonight. Now, get some sleep. We’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

Hiro nodded and ducked back into the tent.

Draco released his grasp around Harry and stepped out into the clearing. “Close quarters while camping isn’t the most ideal setting for teaching someone the mechanics of physical love with a man.” He picked up Harry’s hand, kissed it, and went back toward the tent. “The cushions really are more comfortable. Sleep tonight, and we’ll work things out tomorrow.”

“Well, at least now we know...”

Draco paused at the flap of the tent and half-smiled. “Yeah. Now we know.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

As Harry slept, he felt as if he was in the embrace of the Gods. The magic flowed through him, kept him warm, safe, and feeling like nothing could possibly be wrong with the world.

However, when he woke, he found that the real world was much different from that when he was sleeping.

Hiroyuki and Draco were both trying very hard not to shout as they argued about using magic to change the weather. Apparently, there was something of a torrential downpour outside and Hiro wanted Draco to make the rain go away.

“I can’t,” Draco insisted, pointing out toward the flap of the tent. “That, out there, is what we call a force of nature. It isn’t some mid-week sun shower, it’s been pouring buckets, and this is not something that any wizard could just walk out there and change.”

“You could! Big... cover for all of this. Over to the water and by the trees! You could, just... you... Dad, don’t want to use magic for this!” Hiro huffed and threw himself down on the sofa, tucking his legs up underneath him. Apparently his English suffered when he was angry. This was the first time Harry had heard him struggle for words.

“Dame desu. Kyou no tenki wa taihen da! Sore wa taifun no you na mono da.”

(It’s no good. Today’s weather is very bad. It’s like a typhoon.)

Harry pushed himself up and put on his glasses. “I don’t know if I could even change the weather if it’s raining that much.” He reached up, stretched, and pushed himself up. “Hiro, your father’s right. Weather magic is nearly impossible. Especially with all of the natural magic up here floating around. However, that’s not to say we couldn’t use some magic here inside the tent to entertain ourselves while we wait for the rain to stop.”

Hiro just sat there and pouted.

For some reason, it seemed as if Draco couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “Coffee?” He offered, puttering over to the small gas stove in the middle of the main room. “I’ve got a little bit left here, but I can always make some more if you... Oh, I said we would have pancakes this morning. Well, it’s a little difficult since we’ll be cooking inside, but...”

”Otou-san baka！”

(Dad’s stupid!)

Hiro stormed off into his bedroom.

“He’s acting like a child.” Draco shook his head and stared after him. “I thought he would be more reasonable at his age.”

Harry sighed. “He’s a year younger than we were when we met. Would you consider either of us reasonable back then?”

“Aah, yes. You’ve got a point.” Draco stared down at the percolator as if he was willing it to brew faster. “You hated me from the moment you saw me. And for no reason.”

“You insulted the only person who was ever kind to me, Draco.” Harry walked right up to Draco and stood next to him. “That was the reason.”

“Yeah,” Draco said softly. “Sometimes I know when someone else is right, and I can’t seem to admit it. I know how he feels. Hiro, that is. The disappointment... and having a stupid father.”

“You’re not stupid because you can’t change the weather. Even I can’t do that, and I’m awfully good at charms.” Harry wasn’t sure what this conversation was about, but it felt like it was something that ran a lot deeper than the weather. However, knowing how complicated things could get in non-traditional families, Harry was hesitant to ask. If Draco wanted to tell him, he would.

“I’m not very confident anymore. Not so much with magic, but all sorts of other things.” The coffee was finished brewing, but he let it just sit there. “There have been times when I’ve seen things and experienced things, and I’m absolutely sure that they happened, but it turns out... that everything was all in my head. Instead of doing something, I just stood there while my mind thought it was taking action.”

Hiro ran back into the room. “Gomen.” He ran up to Draco and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think about that anymore. It’s all my fault.”

The half-story that hung in the air seemed to hit Harry squarely in the chest. He watched Draco as he put his head down, letting his hair fall into his face again and petted back Hiro’s bangs. There was something between these two that had changed both of them.

And it also explained why Draco couldn’t meet Harry’s gaze. He realized that Draco probably thought the night before was all a dream, and none of it actually happened. And when he had said “Now we know,” he probably thought that the whole thing was a dream.

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee and went over to the tent flap. He opened it and watched the rain pour down, pondering his next move. After taking a sip of coffee, he tied open both flaps of the tent, set down the coffee and turned to face the other two. “Hiro, I’ve got something to ask you.”

“Hmmm?” Hiro pulled back from his father and wiped a stray tear from the side of his face.

“Remember how we planned before to somehow make your father like me?” Harry scratched his head. “Well, more than that, we had to make him like me enough for him to want me to stay, right?”

Hiro nodded.

Draco looked dumbfounded.

“Well, I think he already does. No, that’s not right, either. I know he already does. So, then the next question is if you think it would be okay if we change things around a bit and work on getting your father to love me?”

“I think it would be okay. How can we do that?” Hiro walked over to Harry and crossed his arms. “I don’t think anyone can make another person love them, can they? Is there magic you can use?”

“Wha- what is all this?” Draco sputtered.

“No, can’t use magic. Then it wouldn’t be real. And it has to be real to work, right? I mean, if I’m going to love that bloke over there, he’d better actually love me back and not just magically love me back.”

“What?!”

Thunder boomed and the storm howled outside, drowning out Draco’s response.

Harry sat on the sofa and Hiro sat next to him. They both looked up. “Come on, then.” Harry patted his lap. “You can either sit here, or sit next to me, but we need to have a little chat about a few things.”

Not really knowing what was going on, Draco sat next to Harry on the sofa.

“So the first thing I have to say is that last night was real. 100% amazing, and very, very real. I think we’ve both established that although we are not likely to ever want to go back home, there was at least one aspect of our previous lives that we would like to retain.” He leaned over and kissed Draco on the neck.

“So...”

“I’m not finished.” Hiroyuki giggled at Harry interrupting his father. “Secondly, I want to know what’s going on.” The boy stopped giggling. “I want to know from both of you what happened, why it’s still affecting this gorgeous idiot over here, and what can be done about it.”

Hiro’s face suddenly turned sad and he turned away.

Draco sighed. “First point aside for the moment, okay? Second point is far more complicated than you can probably imagine. It’s a very long story.”

Harry brought his arm back from around Draco’s shoulders and folded his hands in his lap. “Well, we’ve got several hours of thunderstorm out there, and it’s unlikely we’ll be doing any fishing today, so I think we’ve got time enough for a very long, complicated story.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

It was well after the war - three years, in fact - when the Malfoy family left England, never to return. Selling the Manor and grounds was something Narcissa had wanted to do, anyway. Who could live in such a place where so many horrors would haunt them? So they took what they had and left for Canada without another word to friend or family.

His family settled in Toronto, but Draco ventured farther west, finally settling just outside of Vancouver. It was there that he met Junichiro Suoh, a student from Japan studying abroad for a year. The man had black, curly hair and wore round glasses and green contact lenses -  one of the latest fashion trends in wizarding Japan.

This young man told him all sorts of interesting things about Japan. About how it was very easy for one to start a new life for himself with just a little magic and some potion skills. He talked often about starting up an apothecary shop to create Eastern medicine and potions using magic that had long since left the country.

And Junichiro also taught him all about making love to a man. So many nights he’d spent with him, wishing his partner was someone else, but still knowing his dreams would always be just that. Junichiro knew, too. He knew he was a surrogate for the real Harry Potter. But for his short year in Vancouver, he was willing to be someone else.

Especially since a young fiancee was waiting for him back in Nara.

When Junichiro finally did leave, Draco was left with an empty feeling. Not just the loneliness that one often experiences when a dear friend is gone, but something deeper. He could have gone back to his parents in Toronto, but then he would just be going back into that same life he so desperately wanted to escape.

There was only one thing that he really wanted, and it was half a world away and, he thought, forever out of his grasp.

So he went to Japan.

He knew that he would never go to Nara; that he could never see Junichiro again. So, instead, he went farther south. When he finally arrived in Fukuoka, he found a temple that was built on both Buddhism and magic.

“You’re lost,” a voice told him.

“You speak English.” Draco turned around and was face-to-face with a woman wearing a white haori and red hakama. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a white ribbon. In her hands, she had a small tree branch with a tiny bell tied around one of the leaves.

“I speak several languages. And I can speak no languages, also.” She took a few steps toward the shrine on the side of the temple. “Come, let’s find out who you are and why you’re here.”

Draco followed her until they both stood before the small shrine. It was made of wood with a clay tile roof over it, and two stone monoliths right behind it. Inside, there was a box made of camphor wood with gold leaf on the top in the shape of a phoenix.

The woman moved the tree branch from one side to the other and back again, chanting an incantation that Draco had never heard before. When she finished, she placed the tree branch in the ground in front of the shrine and took a step backward.

A long trail of mist came from the box, moved down to the ground, and then up her body to finally wrap around her head.

Draco watched as her face changed emotions from happy, to shocked, to sad, and then content.

“Usually I can only see things in other people’s futures. However, because fate has chosen you for a much higher purpose, I saw something of myself, as well.”

“Oh, so, all of this was divination? I’m sorry, but I really don’t put much faith in prophecy anymore. I’ve known one too many that have--“

“This isn’t any prophecy, Mr. Malfoy, this is a fate beyond your control. Good things happen, yes? Bad things happen. Most times in life, they go hand-in-hand.” She brought Draco over to the temple and sat on the top step, motioning for Draco to follow her.

“There is a storm coming. You will do what you can to ride out the waves, but it will leave you with more responsibility than you’ve ever experienced. Even more than when you were in possession of the most powerful wand the world has ever known.”

“How did you--“

The woman put up her hand. “Many other things were shown to me. I can only tell you two of them. You will stay here until it is time. When you know it’s time,  you will need to follow the magic into the mountains of Korea. There, in that place, you will realize why you’re here. And you’ll have help.”

Draco sat on that step and thought about what the woman said, long after she turned to smoke drifted away. It wasn’t the first time a spirit had told him what he was doing and where he was going, but this time, there was a real prophecy about him.

And he thought he was ready for it.

Then came the typhoon.

Even living through the war and seeing all of the horrors of the final battle, he wasn’t prepared for this feeling of loss and devastation.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

He had been in Fukuoka for six months, had made friends with some very good wizards and witches, and had set up a life for himself brewing potions and teaching English to many of the children.

His favorite student, by far, was young Hiroyuki Nakashima. The Nakashima family lived right on the coast just a kilometer or so from the ferry. They were one of those old wizarding families that drew its strength from the ocean and had a natural rapport with creatures that lived in the water.

In fact, one of the things Malfoy loved about Japan was the fact that all of the magic here was tied to the elements. There was no mish-mash of what people could and couldn’t do with random skills popping up here and there in bloodlines. No, everyone knew what kind of magic they had, and they knew how to use it.

Always having loved the ocean himself, Draco made quick friends with the Nakashimas, and in Hiroyuki’s family, he finally understood what Harry had found in the Weasley family. Here were three people who accepted him in wholeheartedly, offered him comfort, help, and love, and never expected anything in return.

It made Draco understand those horrible feelings he’d harbored toward Harry and his friends so many years ago. Something deeper than jealousy, it was almost to the point of despair. As if there were two starving children, and only food for one, so the one had to watch while this other child was offered a chance to survive.

It wasn’t Harry’s fault.

It wasn’t the Weasley’s fault.

In fact, there was no blame to be handed out at all.

Draco would often lose himself in thought and meditation during that period of his life. In fact, there were times he’d be so lost in his own thoughts, he would dream about doing things only to find days later that he’d only thought about doing them, and still hadn’t gotten them done.

And even worse, there were times he’d experienced things that seemed so otherworldly that he could have sworn he was dreaming, only to find out later that they’d actually occurred.

The woman’s prophecy hung in the back of his consciousness like a thick drape, always there, but never in the forefront of his mind.

Until July came around, and his life was turned upside-down.

They had all seen it coming. Everyone in Fukuoka knew just what was in store. The problem was that this time, it wasn’t supposed to be bad. Just a tropical cyclone turning just north of Okinawa, and then heading up the southeastern coast of Japan. Fukuoka would get rain, and some winds, possibly a storm surge, but nothing that would break the levee.

That is, until it hit a wall of warm magic. The Muggles on the news didn’t know what happened. But every wizard worth his salt watched in horror as this wall of magic drifted up from the Philipines, up off of Thailand and China, and pushed its way up into the mountains of Korea.

Unfortunately, it took the typhoon with it. Instead of banking to the east, it made a sharp turn to the west, gathered strength, and went directly through the Inland Sea, traveling directly through Fukuoka on its way to Busan.

The storm surge was over five meters, breaking the levees, and washing away large parts of the cliffs. The winds gusted at over 270 kilometers per hour, and half a meter of rain fell in one night.

Draco was with the Nakashimas in their home at the time the storm hit. They had been piling sandbags up on the back end of the levee with Hiro tucked away safely in their home. The protection wards were holding strong with this great influx of magic coming through town, but out on the edge of the ocean, there was no protection at all.

Suddenly, one of Draco’s dreams came upon him. Or was it a dream? He was in a daze, and although he felt the urge inside of him to keep working, to help, to protect these people, something held him back.

He heard the tiny bell ring, and the woman wearing red and white stood next to him. “This is your tragedy,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, but fate is a cruel parent. Just know that you’ve done everything you can do, and from this point onward, you are not the same man.” The tiny bell rang again, echoing loudly over the booming noise of the storm.

He turned to her, confused. “I can’t help them?”

“You aren’t supposed to help them. They know.” She reached down and took his hand, then pointed to Mr. and Mrs. Nakashima. They looked up and sighed, then held hands. “They are of the ocean, and they will go back to the ocean. This is the way things are.”

Draco felt himself choking inside. He didn’t want to see this. He wanted to move, to go and rescue them, bring them up the hill to safety. It was like watching the Battle of Hogwarts all over again, only this time, these people had done nothing to deserve this.

The woman stood in front of Draco, blocking his view. “Don’t watch. This is their time. But you - you need to care for the boy. Do you know what it means - that name you took?”

“Midori? Green?”

She nodded. “You are of the mountains. The boy is of the water. After this night, he cannot stay here. Take him to the mountains where the magic is flowing. Find your place there, and then the tragedy - the bad fate will start to turn into good fate.”

Draco watched as the woman took her little branch with the bell and went up to the Nakashimas. They looked like ghosts to him. Most likely, they’d already been washed away, and all that was left were their spirits. She said a few words to them, and swung her branch back and forth.

He looked away, looked back up the house on the hill where one young boy was probably hiding in his room, terrified of the storm, terrified that he might lose his family, terrified that after tonight he would be alone.

“Not alone,” Draco vowed.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Back at the campsite, the storm didn’t let up at all. All day, Hiro was in a mood, Draco was quietly puttering around, making meals and cleaning things that didn’t need to be cleaned, and Harry, for the most part, sat in that pile of cushions thinking about Draco’s story.

It was no wonder Hiro didn’t like storms and wanted his father to stop the rain.

It was no wonder Draco had become so soft-spoken and relaxed in his daily life.

Harry was also caught up in the thoughts about all of these children who couldn’t use magic down in the towns and cities, but regained some of their magic up here in the mountains. Was there a way to remedy this?

“I’m going to smoke,” Draco finally said, setting down the percolator. “Care to join me?” He looked down at Harry and chuckled.

“Might as well.” He pushed himself up and followed Draco out of the tent. They both sat in folding chairs under the awning, their ankles and feet still getting wet from the blowing rain.

Harry watched, mesmerized, as Draco’s long thin fingers packed the bowl of the pipe with tobacco, carefully tucking down each leaf until they were all in a perfect little mound at the bottom. Then, even more mesmerizing, was how Draco struck the match and carefully shielded the flame from the wind with his hand. Harry watched closely as the little fire dipped into the bowl and then back onto the matchstick, almost as if it had a life of its own.

“I’ve always loved the smell of cherry tobacco,” Draco finally said, puffing quickly to get the pipe well and lit. “I didn’t start smoking for the taste, you know, I started for the smell. It’s one of those things that calms me and makes me feel human.” He offered the pipe to Harry.

“Aah, no thank you. I think right now I just...” He shook his head.

“You’re thinking a lot today. I’ve found that thinking too much is like eating too much. You keep doing it, and you just feel sicker and sicker. That the right amount can pass you by in a minute, and if you keep going, you’ll end up regretting it.” Draco crossed his legs and leaned over, his elbow on his knee, his chin in his hand. “And regrets are terrible things. Pointless things. The fact that humans have created such a thing as shame and regret is truly... regrettable.”

Harry nodded. “I don’t really regret anything, and I don’t feel shame for anything either. I just wish, sometimes, that people wouldn’t see me as a legend, and for the normal person that I am.” He looked over at Draco. “I’m not really that special.”

“Don’t have to tell me that, I’ve been telling that to you for decades.”

“Right, well, the rest of wizarding England hasn’t figured it out yet. Or Europe for that matter. Even in India, when I stepped off the train in Delhi, I was greeted by adoring fans. It’s annoying to say the least.”

“I can imagine.”

Harry was a little surprised that the man sitting next to him actually sounded genuine. He turned so that his back was next to Draco’s back, and leaned over to rest the back of his head on Draco’s shoulder. “I don’t think anyone really knows what it’s like only to be known as a man who’s killed someone else. Doesn’t matter if that person was good or bad, it’s still a horrible lot in life just to be known as a very famous murderer... or executioner.”

Draco pulled his pipe from his mouth and looked at it in thought. “It was a good thing you did, Harry. You saved every one of us, and we’re all grateful.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not my problem. The problem is that I do more than just that. Why couldn’t I be remembered as a great seeker? Or a wizard with an uncanny ability for charms? Hell, I’d even love to be known as a wizard who’s terrible at potions. Worst potions-brewer in centuries.”

He reached up and gently ran his fingers along the scar on his forehead. “Instead, I’m known as the greatest killer in generations.

“I know, in coming here, I’m just running away from my problems, but--“

“Nothing wrong with running away if the thing you’re running away from is actually dangerous.” Draco put the pipe back in his mouth. “The way I see it, you should run away from things you can’t possibly face and win, yes?”

“Makes sense.”

“And you can’t possibly face and win against this situation, so your best bet is to find a place where you can get away from it.”

“I love you.”

“And this place...” Draco stopped suddenly, unable to speak.

“Um, sorry...Sorry, that just...”

“No, no, it’s okay.” The rain seemed to be getting louder as they sat there. Draco finally broke their silence. “Really?”

“Probably, yeah. I mean... I don’t know what I mean, but yeah.” Harry didn’t dare move for fear that he might see Draco’s face if he sat up.

Draco nodded. “Okay, good. That makes things a lot easier.” He quickly turned around and brought Harry’s head down into his lap. “Makes it a lot easier.”

A loud boom of thunder rang through their moment. It gave Draco enough time to gather his thoughts together. “Right, so that, what you just said, I should be perfectly honest.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to hear that for nearly 20 years now. So, yeah, it makes things a lot easier, but at the same time, I wonder if you can really know.”

“I understand you’ve been through a lot. And I know you’re not the same person you were before. I can see that you’re much calmer and--“

“That’s not it. I suppose I should ask you this question: Do you love me enough to give up your magic for me?”

Of all the things Draco could have said, nothing prepared Harry for that question. He had an inkling that staying here might mean his magic would diminish, but to give it up entirely? Harry sat up and turned toward Draco. “Is it really that bad down there?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s bad enough that none of the children are born with magic, and they have to come up to the mountains to use it. Although, I’m not sure I’d call that bad. Children can get into a lot of trouble using magic.”

“And adults?”

“Temples are magical sanctuaries. If we went to a temple, it would have a similar result as coming up here. However, staying in the city will most likely make all magic fade away until, and this is just my theory, we would lose use of it entirely.” Draco tapped his pipe on the leg of the chair, dumping the ash onto the wet ground.

Suddenly an image came to Harry’s head. “The sticking charm. The pipe, back at your hostel.”

Draco nodded. “Didn’t last long, did it? If I cast Lumos I can sometimes make it last about ten minutes if I’m having a good day. Otherwise, I get a dim glow just long enough to make it from my room to the bathroom and back again.”

Harry’s mind was racing. There had to be something he could do about this. After all, magic was so abundant up here in the mountains, if they could somehow harness all of this and channel it back to the city, it would help everyone. “Have you thought about how to fix this situation? Is there any way of moving all of this power back down into the city?”

“No. It can’t be done.”

“Are you sure? I mean, have you tried? Have the other wizards--“

“Harry! It not only can’t be done, in my opinion it shouldn’t be done.” Draco took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I think we should go inside. Hiro’s terrified of storms like this, and it’s almost time to eat.” He leaned over and kissed Harry softly. “This part of you - the part that always wants to fix the world - is annoying as hell, you know that? I mean, I still find you amazing and adorable and incredible, but sometimes you need to really look at the situation before you jump in and do something.” He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, got his little finger caught in a mat, then went back into the tent, grumbling something about buying a brush when they got back.

Harry sat out there for a while, thinking about what Draco had said. What was wrong with bringing magic back to the people of Korea? It was handy in a pinch, helped with the balance of power in his opinion, and if the ability was latent in them anyway, why not allow them to use it? Of course, having lived as a Muggle for so long, Harry was confident he could do without again. He rarely used his magic on his travels, and in some parts of India where there were too many Gods and Goddesses working, it was so hard to control, he didn’t use it at all.

But to go without it forever in daily life? Sure, he could do it. And he probably would if it meant being able to live this kind of life with Draco and Hiroyuki. But why?

When he went back into the tent, Draco was putting seaweed-wrapped rice triangles known as samgak kimbap on plates and filling half a dozen bowls with kimchi, various pickles, vegetables, sauces, and dips.

“I know we don’t usually eat all the side dishes with kimbap, but Hiro wanted kimchi, radishes, myeolchi bokkeum... um, that’s anchovies stir fried with nuts - really should try it, you’ll like it.”

He actually was very hungry. And still confused. He went over and took the plate from Draco’s hand.

“Accio soju,”  Draco said, holding out his now freed hand. “You look perplexed. And as much as I like that look on you, I really do want you to understand. We’ll have a drink, eat something, and I’ll give you a brief history lesson.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Harry did not, in fact, get much of a history lesson at all. After four bottles of soju, neither he nor Draco were in any condition to discuss anything beyond which one of them would risk their drunk magic to transfigure the small bed into a queen for the night.

In the end, they both passed out on the cushions in the main room of the tent with Hiro curled up next to his father.

Dreaming, Harry figured out a lot, though. There was something very peaceful about this land. There were no dark lords, nobody fighting to be the strongest or most powerful wizard. Nobody was casting unforgiveables, and although they didn’t have the little conveniences of household magic, there was something to be said about experiencing magic out in nature.

Still, there was something else that was in the back of his mind as he dreamed. Something about the way Draco was talking to him. There was another message, a feeling that he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

In his dream, Harry watched those orbs of magic flow up the mountains. He started moving backward, toward the source, and watched as they flowed up from the sea of Japan, from the China sea, through the straits, back all the way from the ocean and beyond. Life all over the world was generating this magical force, and it was all flowing right up into Korea, Japan, and China. Over on the other side of the world, Harry imagined the same thing was happening in Europe, North America, South America, and Africa.

This amazing phenomenon of energy pooling and flowing like the tides. Harry allowed the currents to pull him back into the mountains where he heard millions of birds singing their own songs while basking in all of this amazing energy.

In a flash, Harry was back in England again. It was just as he had left it, only for some reason, there was no magic.

People walked around just as they always had done. Businesses boomed, and some failed. People lay down three euro for a fancy coffee and then turned around and balked at the price of petrol. Everyone under the age of 30 could be found with their faces staring into a tiny glowing screen as they sat around in restaurants waiting for their fish and chips and green salads.

Life went on.

Even without magic, people thrived. Muggles thrived. Wizards and witches thrived the way they always had done.

That’s when he realized what he had been missing before. Sometimes when you give something up, it may seem like a loss at first, but what you’re really losing is a burden. And as soon as you release it, you gain something better in return.

Peace. Freedom. Contentment.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

The next morning, Harry woke before the others. Draco had draped himself over the right half of Harry’s body with one arm around his waist, one leg over his ankles, and his head on Harry’s chest. Hiro had also moved in the night, and was nestled in on Harry’s left side, with his head on Harry’s shoulder.

He found himself in a state of utter bliss. It was one of those situations where he never realized just how much he needed this kind of human touch until he had been deprived of it for a while and then suddenly had it again. Whether Draco loved him or not, he didn’t even care. For the first time since he was a child arriving at the Weasley household, he felt as if he had someplace where he really belonged.

It was a motley crew of Japanese, and English, and well settled into Korea, but for the first time in his adult life, he had what he could finally consider to be his own family of sorts.

The “of sorts” bit was actually pretty important to him. He thought for a moment what he might be like in a traditional family with someone like Ginny for a wife, and three kids, all named after family members who had passed on, and somehow it just didn’t seem to fit. He had always been, and always would be an outcast. And he needed to be with others who understood his situation. Who were just as much outcasts as he.

The only problem with waking up with this much love wrapped around him was that he was actually desperate to respond to the call of nature, if you will. And Draco’s gorgeous face on his bladder wasn’t making things any easier.

Carefully, he pulled his arm out from under Hiro and rested the boy’s head on a cushion. Then he sidled out from under Draco and ended up falling into the middle of the floor.

“You’re creeping away,” Draco mumbled, his face buried in a cushion.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Promise me.” Draco opened one eye, then closed it again. “You promise me.”

“I promise.”

The rain had stopped, and a thick mist was coming down off of the mountain. Harry could see the green of the trees poking up above the mist, and with the sound of the brook gurgling and splashing, he was quite sure this was the textbook definition of paradise. Would he be willing to give up the conveniences of magic for this?

In a heartbeat.

When he returned to the tent, Draco was sitting up in the cushions, barely awake, holding his knees to his chest with his head resting on his knees.

“I promised. I’m back,” Harry whispered. He went over to the pile of cushions and sat next to Draco, wrapping one arm around his waist. He kissed Draco’s shoulder and then leaned his head on it.

“I have a... thing. Problem, I guess. Where I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. So when you do something like go away, even for a minute, sometimes I don’t know if you were ever really here.” Draco never once lifted his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If you do ever leave me, just... I don’t know... don’t tell me. Let me keep this fantasy as long as I can.”

Harry reached over and brought Draco’s face over to his. “No fantasy here. Maybe after the first couple of years you’ll start to believe that I might actually be here to stay.”

Draco kissed him softly, then fell back onto the cushions. “Couple of years?”

“Well, I was thinking about it. And the magic we knows know is great and all, but there’s something more powerful out here. It’s kind of nice having a natural force defeat me, I gotta say.” Harry stretched out next to Draco, laying on his side, bracing his head on his elbow. “I think I understand what you were saying yesterday about not needing magic.”

“It isn’t just us, you know. The whole country - none of the wizards here want that responsibility anymore. Magic is great in the temples and all, but for daily life, it’s just as well that we do things ourselves.” He turned to look at Harry. “So the other thing I want to know, is are you done traveling?”

Harry thought for a moment. “No,” he said. Draco’s face seemed to fall at his answer. “But I’m done traveling alone. And I have no intention of ever going back to England. There really isn’t much for me there.”

“Then stay with us. Travel with us when we travel. We can go-- anywhere, really. Except England, Canada, the United States, North Korea, and Guam (don’t ask about that one).” He rolled over onto Harry and smiled, letting his hair cascade down the sides of his face again. “Now, it’s stopped raining. I strongly suggest we send Hiro out to go fishing and play with the water sprites while you and I...”

“What was all that about being in a tent and not wanting to teach me in cramped quarters with--“

Draco leaned down and kissed the words out of Harry’s mouth. “That was when I wasn’t sure you understood what it meant to stay with me. Now, however, you and I are going to transfigure that cot in the other room into something a little more accommodating and figure out if we actually are fully compatible with each other.”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. “Confession time, then.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I think I ought to let you know that this isn’t actually my first time.”

“I assumed you and--“

“With a man.”

“Oh.” Draco thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Makes it easier on me, then. Top or bottom?”

“Um, actually. I’d prefer...”

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever you want. If there’s a problem, we can negotiate sometime next week.” On his way into the other room, Draco wrote a note in the air in Japanese - something Harry couldn’t possibly read.

“What’s--“

“Never you mind. Just come on in here and don’t worry about us being disturbed. He’ll sleep for at least two more hours, and then after that... well, he’ll be fine.”

Harry followed Draco into the room, and just stood by the door for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Okay? Yeah, I’m okay! I’m just... just great.” Draco was standing by the bed and just smiled for a minute. Then his smile faded somewhat and he looked off into the far corner of the room. “It’s just that... when you’ve been wanting something for a really long time, and it’s finally there, I’m not sure if  whatever it was in my imagination will come close to--”

“You think too much.” Harry closed the distance between them and pulled Draco into a hard and passionate kiss. Their tongues seemed to know exactly what to do with no hesitation, no dreaming, no questioning reality.

As they kissed, Harry quickly unbuttoned his pajama top while Draco started pulling his arms out of his t-shirt. “See? Nothing to worry about.” Harry said softly as he kissed Draco’s collarbone. “Forget the dreams.”

Draco nodded.

Harry moved his mouth up Draco’s neck and sucked just under his ear. “Better than a dream?”

“Oh, God... yes.”

Harry pushed Draco back onto the bed and stretched out beside him. “I don’t want you to think for one moment that this is one of your dreams or fantasies. If I have to spend the next six hours - six years proving to you that your life is real, I will.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Six decades?”

Harry buried his face into Draco’s shoulder and chuckled. “You defeat me sometimes,” he said softly. “I’ve suffered too many losses in my years to promise any ‘forevers,’ Draco. But I’ll come as close as I can in promising you this. I won’t leave you until you want me too.”

It was good enough. Draco, too, understood just how hard it was to live through the war. Losing family, fortune, friends, and safety was bad enough, but both of them had lost their liberty in a way, as well.

With those few statements, the mood of the room changed from that of desperation to something far more poignant. Instead of  hormones taking over, the more poignant endorphins released by love washed over them, and suddenly it seemed so important to make these moments really count.

They took their time removing their clothes, making sure not to miss anything they hadn’t seen before. There was that tattoo, of course, that went all the way up to his shoulder. The dragon’s head was down near his elbow - near the head of the phoenix. And its tail wrapped up and around his shoulder. Harry leaned down and kissed it.

“You’re so sentimental,” Draco whispered. He pulled Harry’s face over to his and brushed his lips against Harry’s cheek. “And you’re moving too slow.”

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

They had planned to spend two more days in the mountain so as to offer Hiro one day back home to get ready for school and play with Gunwoo and Nakyung again.

And Harry, although enjoying the magic up in the mountains, also felt as if they had stayed long enough. That morning, Draco was still sleeping in the bed they’d shared, so he was helping Hiroyuki prepare the eggs and sausages for breakfast. Draco had insisted that these Korean blood sausages were an amazing substitute for the ones they had known back home, only with rice in the filling instead of rusk.

“Burning!” Hiro shouted, pointing to the pan where the sausages were, indeed, sticking and burning. Harry looked down, snapped back to reality, and removed the pan and half of their breakfast from the little camp stove.

“Sorry, Hiro, my mind’s off on another planet right now.”

“I’ll make breakfast. You go wake up dad. He doesn’t get mad at you.” Hiro shoo’d Harry away to the other room and took his place at the stove. Harry nodded and made his way into the other room.

Draco was sleeping, naked, on his stomach with his tattooed arm curled up over his head. As Harry approached him, he noticed the phoenix nuzzling its head against the dragon’s neck. The dragon then turned his head and breathed fire into the Phoenix’s flames, causing them to burn brighter - giving the phoenix more energy.

“You never asked me about it.” Draco mumbled.

“I reckoned you got it to cover the mark?” Harry sat on the bed next to him, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss between Draco’s shoulder blades. “And I didn’t want to ask you things that would bring up your past. Our past.”

“This is different.” Draco pushed himself up, stretched, and sat cross-legged on the bed. “It’s us. Phoenix. Dragon. The one that doesn’t die. The one that isn’t allowed to live.” He reached for the glass of water and took a sip, then flopped over into Harry’s lap. “Who burnt the sausages?”

Harry petted back Draco’s hair. “That would be me.”

“Let Hiro do the cooking from now on.”

“Did you know that in China, the Phoenix represents the Queen and the Dragon the King?” Harry asked, looking down into Draco’s face.

“Did you know that just looking up at your eyes gets my dick hard and it wants to be sucked again?”

“Did you know that I might consider that to be the perfect dessert after we go have breakfast with your son who is currently frying up eggs in hopes that we’ll be out there on our own in five minutes so he doesn’t have to come in here and watch someone perform fellatio on his father first thing in the morning?”

“You’re mean.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re forgiven.” Draco sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Get out of here before I make you do something Hiro will regret seeing. I’ll be dressed and out there in five minutes.”

Harry kissed Draco’s shoulder and left the room.

 

 

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

‘“Did you bring it?” Hiro asked his father with much enthusiasm.

“Of course! But our guest has first turn, right?” Draco went back into the tent to fetch something.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked. “What do I get first turn at?”

Hiro just giggled and ran toward the clearing. “Over here!”

Shortly afterward, Draco walked up to them carrying a broomstick. “Have you ever ridden a bamboo broom before?”

The ruddy thing didn’t look like much of anything to Harry. In fact, he was sure he’d seen dozens of Muggles using broomsticks just like this in Gwangju for sweeping up the sidewalks. There were no stirrups, nothing fancy about the handle, but something in the look on Draco’s face told him this was more than it seemed. “No, I haven’t.”

Hiro giggled and jumped up and down, clapping his hands.

“Right, I’ll warn you. It’s not as fast as your Firebolt. Not as fast as a standard Nimbus, actually, but this little guy? Maneuvers like a ninja. It’s not fast, but it’s quick, and it can, quite literally, turn on a knut.” Draco held out the broomstick for Harry to have a go at it.

The thing weighed almost nothing. Made entirely from bamboo, it was lightweight, felt strong and very sturdy, and even the bamboo bristles at the end felt like they might as well have been feathers. But as soon as Harry put an ounce of his magic into it, the end bristles clumped neatly together, and the bamboo shaft straightened itself out.

Draco smiled and nodded. “It’s the difference between a commercial airliner and a World War little fighting plane, or whatever that thing was.”

Harry mounted the broom and kicked off of the ground, only to be zipped through the air. Oh, but this thing was agile! He started with some standard seeker drills, but found that it lacked the speed to catch up to even a bird. So instead, he altered his normal practice to skirt around trees, darting in and out of the branches. Draco was right, he could actually fly between and around the branches of the trees without any sort of compensation for the size and weight of the broom.

It made all other brooms he’d flown feel like Goliath, and here he was with his own little David, zipping around without any effort at all.

After a few minutes, Harry realized that he wasn’t actually flying alone anymore. Several of those magical orbs had begun following him, dancing along as he flicked his way through the air. They appeared to be both playing along with him and feeding the energy of the broom, making it zip a little faster and turn corners a little more sharply. At first, Harry was worried that he might lose some control with all of this extra power behind him, but there were some of the yellow orbs in the front - the ones that came from the trees - that stabilized him as the blue, green, and red ones pushed him along.

Harry eventually did make it back to the clearing, although part of him felt he could have spent the whole day up there among the trees and clouds. “That was bloody brilliant!” He panted, handing the broom back to Draco. “The way this thing handles is unbelievable. And the corners, the turns, were stunning!”

Draco handed the broom to Hiro. “Don’t go up into the trees. Just around the clearing and along the brook, yes?”

“Yes! Yes, I know!” Hiro took the broom, kicked off, and was airborne in a flash.

“Will he be okay?”

“The broom is only as powerful as the magic the rider can summon. You and I? We have an awful lot of summoning power. As for Hiro, most of what he can summon comes from the water. So the clouds will buffer him, and if something happens, he’ll be gently brought back to the ground. That’s why he follows the brook. Who knows what would happen if he went into the trees at his age.”

Harry nodded. “Still, that’s amazing. I’d give up my Firebolt in a heartbeat to have one of those in a Quidditch match. Could you imagine? Flying against the snitch, you can’t actually catch up to it, but a quick turn-around, double back, and cut it off? Plus the diving potential is astounding!”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Draco offered a half-smile, but there was something else in his eyes - perhaps a little worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s no Quidditch here, Harry. Not much flying at all, to be honest. Are you sure you’ll be okay living here without flying? Or rather, with only flying up in the mountains when we have a holiday?”

Harry took Draco’s hand. “Look at him,” he said, looking at Hiro like a proud father, “he’s a natural!”

 ******  
**

~~~*oOo*~~~

 

Six months after they returned home, Harry received an owl. He expected it would be a card from the Weasleys wishing him Happy Holidays. He’d told them that he had decided to stay in Korea for a while, but hadn’t given them the full details of his living situation.

They knew nothing of Draco and his son.

It was, in fact, a card, but not a Holiday card. It was from Ron - an invitation to the wedding of Ginevra Weasley to Oliver Wood.

Harry read the card, smiled, then tucked it back into the envelope and set it on the table. He took a sardine out of the refrigerator and gave it to the owl, asked him to wait for a reply, then went to get pen and paper.

Draco walked into the room and noticed the owl immediately. He looked down and saw the card on the table. “News from home?”

Harry nodded, choking back his emotions. He sat down and started to pen a response. “Gin’s getting married.”

Draco nodded and sat across from him at the table. “Are you okay?”

Harry smiled. “Yes. I’m fine. I just think it’s about time I wrote a letter.”

Draco ran his index finger down the edge of the card. Harry looked over at him. “You can read it if you like. I feel bad that I haven’t been entirely honest with them yet.”

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Look, mate, I know you’re off finding yourself and what, but I just wanted to let you know that Gin’s getting married. She and Oliver have been having a go at it since you left, and Hermione and I reckoned you might want to know.  It isn’t as if she doesn’t miss you, mate. You’ve got to believe that. She was pretty down after you left, and it was a miracle she made it this far without going after you._

_Oh, and for our own news, we’re expecting. Hermione and I are, that is. Right, you probably figured that. She’s probably got twins - at least Mum seems to think so - and she’ll be having them in the late spring. It’d be brilliant if you could come and visit us before then. Or even after them. Or if you did decide to return, you could be their Godfather._

_That is if Mum’s right about the twins thing. Otherwise, just be the Godfather to the one of them, yeah?_

_How ‘bout we come and visit you? You say you’ve settled down in Korea? I’ve never been there, and it’d be nice to travel before ‘Mione’s too big to get around. Don’t tell her I said that. I think she might hex my freckles off._

_Well, here’s an invitation to the wedding, anyway. It says plus one on there. Maybe in case there’s a reason you decided to stay? And you know how Mum is about these things. I’m sure if you’re staying with a family, they’re all welcome to come if you like._

_Let me know so I can tell the others._

_I miss you, Harry._

_Love, Ron._

 

“Well, he’s obviously using a dictating pen,” Draco said softly.

“He always does. Otherwise, there’s no way either of us would be able to decipher his handwriting.” Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sending my regrets.”

“I think we should go.”

Harry looked up. Draco was staring at him, the letter still trembling in his hand. This was the man who swore he would never return to England. The person who didn’t and couldn’t deal with all that was going on back home. The one who had told him it was okay to run away from something if you couldn’t defeat it.

“What?”

“I think we should go. Now, I don’t necessarily think we should go for the wedding, but instead of sending a letter of regret... let’s go... and surprise them... for Christmas.”

It sounded as if Draco was choking out each word. Apparently Harry wasn’t the only one who was filled with emotion from this letter. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! I’m not some silly Gryffindor who would throw himself back into an awkward situation just to look good in the eyes of his lover. No, I think we should go and I think we… should get married.”

Harry put down the pen. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“No, I mean, I really, really, sincerely love you with all my heart.”

“Okay, and this will come with some incoherent statement about…”

“No, that’s all. I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you. And yes, I’d love to go home for the holidays.”

Draco nodded, then smiled. “Right. Let’s tell Hiro.”

“And I’ll send a letter to Hermione.”

“I thought we agreed this would be a surprise.”

Harry reached across the table and took Draco’s hand. He kissed his palm and put it back on the table. “Well, we’ve got to tell someone who can make arrangements in England. Weddings aren’t usually easy to arrange overnight, even if we just appear before the magistrate. Hermione is friends with Pansy Parkinson, so you can have a witness on your side of the aisle, as well. I would tell Ron, but he can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Right, sounds fair.” Draco looked back down at the letter. “And when this holidays are over?”

“We come back East. We come home.”

“Right. Home.” Draco stood and leaned over the table to give Harry a soft kiss. “And then we can start working on our six decades.”

**  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or [on Livejournal](http://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/84962.html).


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